Calling The Storm - Jack McLeod
by AlexCephon
Summary: Jack doesn't remember who he is or why people seem to either hate him or want him. All Jack knows, is that he feels the lightning. He feels it coursing through his veins. Can Jack keep out of trouble and be a hero? Read to find out. (RoguexOC/KittyxOC?) [M for safety reasons.] (Please Read & Review Positively for more content.) (Story Status: Under Construction.)


_**Disclaimer: I do not own anything except the OC and his lucky two-headed coin. All rights to their original owners.**_

 _ **Notice: If you pick up any references in the story, let me know!**_

* * *

 _ **Prologue - Pilot (Jack)**_

The boy awoke on the pier and surrounded by what seemed to be heavily charred bodies. Some carried guns, some with crowbars and metal baseball bats. The one thing he noticed the most though, was the small wooden box next to his leg. It looked to be at least 70 years old, with small engravings and marks carved into patterns of birds on its sides, with stars in the corners of its smooth oak surface. A small padlock hung from its front, with the key nowhere in sight.

The boy's head throbbed as he tried to remember what happened. He closed his eyes and began to focus, picking up only screams and whispers in his head before his eyes snapped open like a bear trap's actions being played out in reverse. He took a few deep breaths of the sharp, chilled Cardiff air as he tried to calm himself from the stress that was casting its shadow over his mind.

Checking his hooded jacket's pockets, he only found a few items. A packet of chewy mints, 2 double-A batteries, an envelope with £40 inside, a smartphone with earbuds, and a library card belonging to somebody called Jack McLeod. He raised an eyebrow at the name before smiling and shaking his head as he placed the items back in his pockets, except the phone.

He checked the time on the phone; 7:35 pm. _'A bit early for a gang fight, isn't it?'_ he thought to himself in confusion. He sighs heavily as he picks up the box and runs, being careful not to leave any evidence that he was there. He didn't want to be implicated in this incident.

* * *

 _ **At the Xavier School for gifted children...**_

"So you found the disturbance, Chuck?" calls a gruff male Canadian voice from the outside of Cerebro.

"It appears so. Though, it seems he's stopped moving around the Cardiff Bay's pier area." calls back the older, more distinguished voice owned by Charles Xavier; Professor-X himself.

"Then I take it things are going to get interesting? I bet ya 50 bucks that Magneto sends one of his goons after the kid." the Canadian grunts out.

"We both know the odds of that, Logan," Charles replies before he moves his wheelchair across the hall with Logan in tow. "Besides, why bet when I know I'd lose?" he finishes with a chuckle.

Logan grumbles a little but says nothing as they ready the jet to head out. Logan pulls out his cellphone and dials for Ororo Munroe. "Storm? I'm gonna need your help. We got another one. New mutant showed up abroad, and I think I'm gonna need backup." he says as he snaps the phone closed.

* * *

 _ **Somewhere in Bayville...**_

"I expect you to find this boy," an aged, slightly aggressive male voice calls out as he hands a file to a lady with blue-toned skin. "If he joins the Brotherhood, we will have another soldier in our army to face the humans." the man says darkly.

"I understand, Magneto. It will be done." the lady replies with a short bow.

"Failure is not an option. I hope you realise that, Mystique. I can't afford failure in my plans." Magneto threatens her subtly.

"Of Course, Magneto." she snaps back.

* * *

 _ **Back to Jack...**_

In a nearby hotel on the edge of a quiet side of Cardiff Bay, Jack had settled down in room 221. He placed the box on his nightstand with the smartphone and headed to the bathroom. Inside the bathroom, he shed his clothes as though they were a second skin. His black jeans, grey Converse trainers with red trainers and white socks, along with his black Sonic the Hedgehog boxers, blue Superman T-shirt, and army-camo styled hooded jacket. He noticed that the wristwatch he had on had been cracked, but not broken, as the hands were still in place moving. It made him consider that perhaps he had been caught in the conflict.

While placing shampoo in his hair, he noticed that inside the white foam, were blotches of reddish pink. placing his fingers n his scalp, he twitched a little in pain as he felt a small cut on the back of his head. Perhaps that was why he couldn't remember anything. Carefully washing his hair and body, he then sat in his chair and dozed off to the sounds of 90's pop musc being played at a low volume.


End file.
